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<title>The Love Boat (Or How Crowley got his Groove Back) by AmyPound</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980692">The Love Boat (Or How Crowley got his Groove Back)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPound/pseuds/AmyPound'>AmyPound</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Awkward Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley and Aziraphale will get a happily ever after, Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Discussions of abuse, Good AUmens AU Festival, Happy Ending, Human AU, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Meet at a wedding, Meet on Vacation, Past Abuse, back ground pairings, but happy ending, interpersonal violence, meet on a cruise, minor angst at start</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:47:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPound/pseuds/AmyPound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley, fresh off a bad break up from a toxic relationship attends his dear friend Bee's wedding on the cruise ship Paradiso. He meets a charming man who he hopes to get to know when not at Wedding events. Luckily for him, that won't be as big of a hurdle as he thinks. The trick is, is he ready for this angel in the hot tub?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good AUmens AU Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Love Boat (Or How Crowley got his Groove Back)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As in the tags and Summary: Crowley is recently out of an abusive relationship which he uses humor to dance around his emotions while he's still recovering mentally. There are brief mentions of what happened here and there, but there won't be graphic depictions of the abusive relationship. </p><p>Further, Beelzebub uses she/they pronouns in this fic, like they're referred to in the script book and TV companion. </p><p>Finally, this fic has nothing to to with "How Stella got her Groove Back," I just thought it worked as a title :P</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley  tossed his carryon bag on the floor before flinging himself onto the bed. Well, he’d made it. He was on the ship and he was ready to <em>finally</em> get some fuckin time to just relax and sort his head. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley had finally had enough of Luc’s bullshit and left. Or well, kicked him out. Semantics. The point is, Crowley just left the longest relationship of his life. Crowley had caught him lying again and even with evidence Lu wouldn’t be convinced he was wrong. And when Luc was done with the conversation, he showed it by  slamming Crowley against the wall by the throat. </p><p> </p><p>Yeah…. That really put a damper on the relationship. </p><p> </p><p>After that, well, Crowley spent a lot of time, money, and emotions into some therapy. He was settling into his new single life okay, but it had only been a few weeks and he was taking things at his own pace. Existing. </p><p> </p><p>Vacationing. </p><p> </p><p>Last minute Vacation. But still, a vacation. </p><p> </p><p>And his friend was getting married on this vacation. Double win. It’s why he was even taking this cruise to begin with. Well, that and the fact there was unlimited alcohol and food. And needing time and space away from… everything. </p><p> </p><p>He checked the time on his phone. Right, no specific place to be just yet for wedding festivities. Perfect. He quickly changed into something a bit more suitable for the weather. Dark shorts over swim trunks. A thin, slate-colored Henly. One last run of his fingers through his chin-length hair before slipping on his signature shades and heading above deck to find one of the quieter bars for a few hours before the wedding meet and greet. </p><p> </p><p>Why, Bee, his friend from college wanted to get married on a cruise ship he wasn’t quite sure, but this seemed like the perfect way to travel, friends here, but his own sleeping quarters. Unlimited alcohol, but not anything stronger. Perfect. </p><p> </p><p>By the time he’d made it to the upper decks, he wasn’t entirely sure finding a “quiet bar” was even possible. He headed further up and away from the pool and other areas where people were congregating. He walked through a dark hall and then he was there, the stern, which, he remembered, was reserved for 18 and older. Still some teens there but ignorable enough he supposed. </p><p> </p><p>After getting himself a scotch and claiming a deck chair, he hesitated on what he wanted to do next. He saw a relatively empty hot tub, only one person in it. He could handle that. </p><p> </p><p>As Crowley approached the hot tub he realized that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew. There simply wasn’t <em>a person</em> in the hot tub, there was an angel. The man had a soft strength to him. His hair practically glowed in the mid-afternoon light. And his bright blue eyes made Crowley’s breath catch. Those eyes were like something out of a cartoon, expressive and just as blue as the sky above them. </p><p> </p><p>And Crowley was staring. This was getting off to a great start. </p><p> </p><p>The man hadn’t noticed him yet, his nose buried in a book. Crowley was both relieved he hadn’t been caught staring and hoping he hadn’t accidentally turned invisible somehow. </p><p> </p><p>“Umm, excuse me,” Crowley managed. The man now turned to look at him and, oh, Crowley was fucked because he didn’t think he could handle the direct gaze of the angel in front of him. “D-Do you mind if I join you?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” the man shook his head. “Not at all.” The man scooted over to make more room for Crowley. “Frankly, I’m surprised I have space at all.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley hummed in commiseration. “Perks of being legally able to drink,” Crowley quipped. </p><p> </p><p>The man snickered, which was just unfair as it was also attractive somehow. “How true.” He picked up a wine glass from a ledge behind him and took a deep sip. “Name’s Aziraphale, by the way.” </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley. Anthony J. Crowley,” he replied, holding a hand out to Aziraphale. “Most people call me Crowley though.” </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley then.” Aziraphale returned the handshake firmly, Crowley’s throat going dry at the subtle strength he could tell was there. “Lovely to meet you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Likewise.” Crowley took a deep sip of his drink, trying to think of something clever to say. He was out of practice with this whole “dating” thing. And his silver tongue was tied up in knots the first time an attractive man caught his eye. He was hopeless. But, he could enjoy the moment. “What are you drinking?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. “It’s a Moscato,” he explained. “I usually prefer a good red, but I have to remain relatively sober.” </p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t sound like a fun vacation,” Crowley quipped, despite being in the exact same position. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “I’m not sure how much of a vacation I’m getting, truth be told,” he said like he was confessing a great sin. </p><p>                                                                                                                                     </p><p>“Oh? Sounds like a story there,” Crowley motioned for the wandering waitress. “Another round for me and my friend here, please, and thanks.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to do that,” Aziraphale said, suddenly looking like he’d already gotten a little too much sun.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It’s literally unlimited alcohol,” Crowley said with a shrug. “If it bothers you, you can always get the next round.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed and seemed to relax some. “I will, just you watch,” Aziraphale insisted. </p><p> </p><p>“So why is this a vacation, not a vacation?” Crowley asked as he took a sip of his new glass. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Aziraphale said, like a man itching to get something off his chest. His broad, soft chest. Focus Crowley. “I’m here for a wedding. My brother’s,” he added quickly. “Not mine. I’m the best man.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was so focused on the fact that it wasn’t this man’s wedding, and that his only ring was on his pinky so he merely said, “Doesn’t sound too terrible.” </p><p> </p><p>“My brother is my opposite in nearly every way and I hate public speaking.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well, yeah that’ll make a vacation,” Crowley searched for a word. “Not fun.” He winced. Smooth. <em>Real smooth</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Indeed,” Aziraphale said, taking a deep sip of his wine. “It could be worse, I suppose.” </p><p> </p><p>“That so?” </p><p> </p><p>“My brother’s fiance has made him a better person.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley let out a bark of laughter at that, and, fuck, Crowley was doomed, Aziraphale giggled. “I know it’s terrible to say,” Aziraphale continued. “But it’s true. She said she wouldn’t agree to go on a date until he cleaned up his act. And to his credit, he did.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good for her.” Crowley finished off his drink. As he did he caught the time on his watch. If he was gonna properly gussy up for the cocktail hour meet and greet he needed to get going. He scowled slightly and looked at his drinking companion, before silently deciding to preen a little less. the only people he cared about this wedding already knew him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, it seemed that fate had other plans. Aziraphale also glanced at his watch and frowned deeply. “Oh drat.” He looked up at Crowley with an apologetic smile. “I have to get going. Places to be for wedding festivities.” Aziraphale knitted his fingers together in front of him. “I’m sure you understand.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed. “I do.” He made room for Aziraphale to exit the tub. He felt his throat develop a sudden lump that bubbled out. “I hope to see you around if you get any more free time this week.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale paused and, oh, there was that blinding smile again. “I’d like that. I err, I’ve heard the little pub on deck seven has a good breakfast, quiet, I’ll probably have breakfast there tomorrow if you’re free?” </p><p> </p><p>“As a bird,” Crowley said with a nod. </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stepped off the stairs and headed aft, toward the ‘closed’ restaurant on the port side of the ship, not to be confused with the identical restaurant on the starboard side directly across a fancy lobby area from where he was headed. He'd traded swimming trunks for a pair of jeans and covered his henley with a black blazer. Crowley knew a bit about ships, but apparently, his friends didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>Hastur and Ligur were standing between the karaoke bar and the outside wall for the ice bar grumbling back and forth with each other while poking Ligur’s phone screen furiously. </p><p> </p><p>“You two lost?” Crowley asked in a mocking sing-song voice. </p><p> </p><p>Their heads snapped up and Hastur immediately scowled. “We’re not lost,” he protested. </p><p> </p><p>“That so?” Crowley said with a smirk. </p><p> </p><p>“Not lost,” Ligur agreed, though sounding less sure of himself than Hastur. “Just… turned around." He let out a small hiccup. "And slightly intoxicated.” </p><p> </p><p>“Besides, what the fuck does ‘aft’ even mean?” Hastur added, waving a glass of what Crowley assumed had been a rum and coke around. </p><p> </p><p>“The back,” Crowley explained. “Sounds like ass. Simple.” </p><p> </p><p>Ligur stood up straighter witha a small laugh. “That’s actually useful.” He turned and shook his head at Crowley as they began walking toward the stern. “Fuck you, Mr. Know-it-all,” Ligur teased. </p><p> </p><p>“Flash bastard,” Hastur mumbled in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, guys,” Crowley said with a chuckle. "Nice to know my knowledge is appreciated." </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly Hastur slung an arm around Crowley’s shoulders, forcing him to bend over a little bit. “Glad you could make it, even if you’re an annoying bastard.” He leaned closer. “We missed you.” </p><p> </p><p>Oh god. Sentimental Hastur. Not exactly what Crowley wanted or needed right now. And of course, now they were walking through the casino. The instant the smell of cigarettes burning hit his nose his fingers began to itch for a cigarette of his own. Take his mind off things. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, Ligur was more perceptive than his partner. “Lay off it, man,” He said, shoving Hastur off Crowley. “If you are gonna be like this, you better start drinking water now.” Ligur shook his head and continued walking. “I can’t deal with you being an emotional drunk.” </p><p> </p><p>“Why are we playing nice exactly?” Crowley asked, confused. </p><p> </p><p>“Bee’s fiancé’s family is a bit more conservative than our lot,” Ligur explained with a deep scowl. “Fiancé and his brother are apparently alright though.”</p><p> </p><p>Hastur hummed in agreement. “Yeah haven’t met them that many times but they seem okay normal not annoying normal. Ya know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Vaguely,” Crowley said with a nod. Crowley had learned that sometimes it was just better to nod. </p><p> </p><p>They finally walked up to the restaurant. “Bon Appetit,” Hastur read aloud. “So pretentious.” He gestured to the identical restaurant across the way. “Now that’s a good name.”  </p><p> </p><p>“You realize that means the exact same thing in Italian?” Ligur pointed out with a cackle. Crowley joined in. It felt good to laugh with friends again. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you guys laughing at?” Dagon asked, stomping over, looking slightly frazzled. </p><p> </p><p>“Me,” Hastur said with a proud grin. For all his faults, Hastur never let being the butt of a joke bother him (for long). “Nice to see you in such a happy mood, Dee.” Hastur also gave as good as he got. </p><p> </p><p>Dagon huffed and rolled her eyes. “This wedding is going to kill me,” she said with a whisper. “It has been a logistical nightmare. Fuckin bloody cruise.” An elevator dinged behind them and two WASP-y people exited an elevator behind them. Suddenly Dagon’s dour demeanor shifted into a stilted, stiff smile. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Carter, welcome. Lovely couple’s just in there.” She gestured to the restaurant and smiled until they were out of sight. “I can’t wait for this to be over. And I don’t have to watch over you fools.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” </p><p> </p><p>“Watch it” </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell?”  </p><p> </p><p>Dagon continued to give them a flat look. “You were supposed to be here 30 seconds before you were.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, what a mortal sin,” Crowley said with an eye roll. He was still wearing shades but he knew Dagon knew he was rolling his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut it, you.” Dagon sighed. “You--I’m just happy you’re here. Come here.” Dagon pulled Crowley into a hug. </p><p> </p><p>“Enough, enough,” Crowley said, pushing Dagon off of him. “If one more person gets sentimental on me I’m gonna spend the entire trip in my room.” At the glare Dagon was giving him, he amended, “Except for wedding events, of course.” </p><p> </p><p>“Fair,” Hastur said. Crowley smirked. </p><p> </p><p>Dagon rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she mumbled. “Get in the party, don’t offend anyone on his in front of anyone over fifty until the wedding reception has started because after then I do not give a fuck.” </p><p> </p><p>Ligur smirked, “So in 3 days?” </p><p> </p><p>“Go feral for all I care, my job managing this circus will be done and I will finally get to enjoy the all you can drink booze,” Dagon said, motioning toward the restaurant. “Now go party, mingle.” </p><p> </p><p>“But don’t be ourselves?” Crowley asked as he sauntered into the restaurant. </p><p> </p><p>“Toned down version of yourself at minimum,” Dagon ordered. “Scram.” </p><p> </p><p>At the center of the restaurant was a giant of a man, who towered over their dear friend, Beelzebub. He knew from pictures on Facebook (once he’d reopened his account) that his name was Gabriel and he was the groom in question. His smile was fake and didn’t touch his eyes as he greeted his guests, but still better than Bee, barely hiding her scowl. </p><p> </p><p>When Crowley, and co. finally caught Bee’s eyesight, the look of relief on her face was truly priceless. “Crowley,” she as soon as the people in the informal greeting line moved on. She actually smiled at him. Crowley shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “Gabriel, this is my friend Crowley, and you’ve met Hastur and Ligur.” </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel, as the tall, violet-eyed man was apparently called, turned his overly wide smile toward them. “Ahh, yes,” He shook Hastur and Ligur’s hands. “Lovely to see you both.”  He turned toward Crowley. “And you, I’ve heard a *<em> lot* </em>about you, Crowley.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’d say I hope it’s all good things, but I know better,” Crowley quipped. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel’s eyes sparked with what might have been approaching amusement. Or anger. “Clever,” he mumbled. </p><p> </p><p>“We’ll let you greet your other guests,” Ligur said, leading them away from the happy couple and toward the bar. </p><p> </p><p>“Why did Bee agree to this again?” Crowley asked. The problem with being kept out of the loop for a while meant Crowley had a lot of hot gossip to catch up on, and then subsequently keep straight. </p><p> </p><p>“Married at sea wasn’t a church wedding, but traditional enough for *<em> his </em>* family,” Hastur explained as they took their drinks and found a nice booth to claim for the remainder of the evening. It was supposed to be more of a cocktail hour, but they were ordered to tone themselves down, and it was the best they could do. </p><p> </p><p>Conversation was fairly light if a little stilted at times. Crowley could not get comfortable in his seat at all as Hastur and Ligur danced around Crowley’s recent break-up and everything to do with Lucifer. His friends made no secret that they had thought Lucifer was bad news before the break-up. However, they had only recently learned the extent of how bad it truly was. That was the downside of showing up at Hastur and Ligurs door at 11 at night, during a thunderstorm, unannounced, while Bee and Dagon were bitching about some wedding business. </p><p> </p><p>They’d let him in, cleared the couch and gave him some weed to help calm his nerves, invited him on vacation and acted like he had been there the whole time not bringing up the elephant in the room. Truly, great friends. Would die for them. Even if now their babying of him was grating on his nerves. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Dagon was able to join them at the table. At first it was just to drop off her stuff, which included a large, tabbed and seemingly color coded binder, but once everyone seemed settled in she wandered back over. “Things should be okay, for now,” she explained, taking a shot of jack daniels, before moving on to her usual jack and coke. “Everyone just sort of mingles for a bit, and Gabriel and Bee handle any announcements regarding tomorrow. Best man grabs these pamphlets and makes sure everyone leaves with one.” Dagon set them under the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Think you can relax for a bit then?” Crowley asked with a grin. </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe about a minute or so.” Dagon pounded the rest of her drink down incredibly quickly. “Can someone else go on a drink run?” She kicked her shoes off under the table. “I’m dying.” </p><p> </p><p>“Got it,” Crowley said, already standing up. Dagon happily made room for him to let him through. “Might take a smoke break first if that’s alright.” She waved her hand dismissively at him and that was all the permission he needed. He quickly found a door out to the deck. There were some fellow party-goers out there. He wandered as far away as he could from them while appearing as if he still belonged. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was fine. He was absolutely fine. He just needed some air. He was glad to be back amongst his friends, really, he was. He just needed a break from the tension. Either ask him about what all happened or not, he didn’t care, just choose one. He didn’t mind telling them what all happened, not anymore. Just rip off the fucking bandaid or never bring it up. But he couldn’t tell them that, not on this trip anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley took a few deep breaths and watched the sea drift by. The sun was setting and he could just start seeing the stars appear in front of him. It helped him center and focus. He enjoyed the quiet peace for a moment and he closed his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes snapped open and turned to the sound of the voice. There, in the dimming light was...“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, his voice totally not cracking at all. Especially not at the sight of Aziraphale in a cream suit, nope. Not at all. But if he was secretly glad he'd traded trunks for jeans and thrown on a blazer, that was his own business. “What are you doing here?” </p><p> </p><p>“I told you, I am the best man in my brother’s wedding,” Aziraphale said slowly. “And you?” </p><p> </p><p>“My friend…” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding just as the pieces slotted together. “Must be marrying your brother.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves laughing. Aziraphale shook his head. “I knew I should have asked why you were vacationing. I realized I hadn’t and meant to ask you tomorrow-” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shook his head. “It’s not a big deal,” Crowley assured him. “We have it sorted.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blessed him with a warm smile. “We do, indeed.” Aziraphale walked closer. “You’re a friend of Bee’s?” </p><p> </p><p>“I am. Known her for years.” Crowley leaned against the railing of the deck. “Almost didn’t think I’d make it,” he found himself admitting. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale said, also leaning against the railing, mirroring Crowley. “You’re the last-minute addition.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley blushed and turned his face away briefly. “Yeah, that’s me.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you could make it,” Aziraphale said resting his hand on Crowley’s arm. “Not just because Dagon stopped panic texting me about uneven tables either.” Aziraphale leaned a little closer. “Though, I am grateful for that as well.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled at Aziraphale. “Glad I could be of service.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, damn,” Aziraphale said with a frown. “I’ve just realized I have to go make sure those bloody pamphlets get handed out.” </p><p> </p><p>“Dagon will bite your head off if you don’t” Crowley winced in sympathy. Dagon was not one to be crossed in terms of organization. “You go on, do your best man duties.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale slowly walked toward the door, before pausing and turning around. “Are we still on for breakfast tomorrow? I’ve been looking forward to it.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be there Aziraphale,” Crowley said with an easy smile. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale beamed with light as he entered the ship. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s vacation was off to a good start after all. </p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are loved almost as much as Aziraphale and Crowley love each other. </p><p>Tumblr/Twitter: Yarsian</p><p>Discord/Ao3: AmyPound</p></blockquote></div></div>
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